


Sunbeams And Fairy Dust

by Violetlyvanilla



Series: True Bond (Destiel X True Blood) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fae Dean, M/M, Vampire Cas, spncoldesthits, true blood - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 11:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14976650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violetlyvanilla/pseuds/Violetlyvanilla
Summary: That was when the front door opened, hot humid hair sweeping into the air-conditioned diner. The stranger standing in the door way was dressed unseasonably for the warm weather. He scanned the room and chose a lone seat in front of a round table, ignoring the menu. Dean gave him a second look because damn that hair was feathery and dark and thick, his back ramrod straight, the hem of his trench coat stirred in some invisible breeze.





	Sunbeams And Fairy Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: violetlyvanilla

Dean's reflection in the coffee pot looked positively anaemic. It was gonna be a long night of trying to block out the noise of a diner full of people. Dean had worked the nightshift for a month trying to earn those extra tips so Sam can have a new laptop. Not that Sam had asked but Dean had noticed how slow that thing was getting. Might have been Dean's adventurous browsing history, but after running about three anti-viruses and it still taking quarter of an hour to boot up, Dean worked out that thing was more fucked than that bi-guy in that True Blood soft core movie he had 'accidentally' downloaded. Not that Dean had a thing for vamps. Not that vamps ventured this far South. At least, not openly. 

Apparently the drunk guys on table 6 didn't have as much common sense, because as soon as Dean went to take their order one of them made a grab for his thigh and slurred out "You a vamp pretty boy?" 

Firstly, Dean was twenty-nine and he didn't need an iron infusion to wipe the greasy tabletop with the men. They were talking real loud and homophobic and thinking some not so heterosexual thoughts about Dean's tight jeans and fitted 'Roadhouse' t-shirt. 

They looked like out-of-town-ers and possibly younger than Dean. From one of them, Dean heard that they were a fraternity on their way to a beach vacation and had missed the turnoff. They'd been drinking all evening lamenting their bad luck for getting two flat tires in Angel Falls. 

If Dean weren't so tired he wouldn't have overheard so much of what was going on in their heads. He blinked hard, trying to clear his head and get their order right. Plastering on a big smile, he said "Hey fellas, we don't get those sorts of customers this far down south, not that we wouldn't serve them, this diner is open to everyone. I just need to catch some sun is all. Now I recommend the cheeseburgers and pickle fries and Bobby over there drinking at the bar runs the car-yard. If you buy him a drink he'll open up for you early tomorrow, Sunday and all, and get you on your way." 

"What are you psychic?" 

It was just bad luck that Jack, who was Sam's reading buddy back when Sam was a senior (who was high-functioning/a tonne of labels/kind-of-a-genius/really awkward), was sat behind the cocky college guys. 

"Dean’s got a gift, so leave him alone or I’ll have to ask you to leave!” 

Jack was doing his hands bunched, jaw set, on the verge of a tantrum, stare. Which made everyone in the joint who was a local piss themselves but the tourists just pissed themselves laughing. Benny stuck his head out of the service hutch, Dean waved him back into the kitchen. 

“Nah if I was psychic I’d tell Dylan here that Bradley slept with his girlfriend last Spring Break,” Dean whisked away the empty beer jug. “How about another round?”

The hotheads descended into silent glares and heated whispers but the focus was definitely off Dean. Jack was appeased by his mother Kelly, who told him he could order dessert. 

That was when the front door opened, hot humid hair sweeping into the air-conditioned diner. The stranger standing in the door way was dressed unseasonably for the warm weather. He scanned the room and chose a lone seat in front of a round table, ignoring the menu. Dean gave him a second look because damn that hair was feathery and dark and thick, his back ramrod straight, the hem of his trench coat stirred in some invisible breeze. No way his face could live up to what Dean’s seen so far from the back, he figured. When Dean managed to finish clearing the table that was just vacated, he approached the new customer. The first thing Dean noticed was the smell. Like wet earth and rain-soaked roads and lightning storms and oaken moss. The guy smelled fantastic. As if flying and moonlight were bottled up into a perfume. 

“What can I do you for?” 

Dean squeezed his eyes shut because usually he was Mr Charisma and the most flirtatious waiter the diner had to offer, but the cheesy line came out with the wrong intonation. It sounded sincere. The man wrinkled his nose. Dean wondered if his deodorant had worn off. 

“A bottle of True Blood, please,” he said, looking Dean in the eyes. 

The most amazing thing happened. The world went silent, the way things were in the very early morning when Dean crosses from dream into waking. Dean looked into the vampire’s eyes, cause they’re the only ones who could drink True Blood, and smiled. It was the first genuine smile Dean gave that night and the guy seemed a little perturbed, put out almost, before he slowly tilted up the corners of his mouth too. 

“We have that, I ordered it last week and Benny thought I’d gone mad but I said to him we should stock at least half a dozen just in case. It keeps well in refrigeration anyway.” 

Dean was blathering and he knew it but the longer he talked to the vampire the longer he could bask in the sweet silence and those eyes were a pretty shade of blue to boot. 

“Thank you,” came the considered reply after another pause. “I wonder if you wouldn’t mind keeping that order on a weekly basis. I have just moved into the town and I would like to be able to have a drink in the social hub of the local community regularly.” 

“Sure thing, uh,” Dean wiped his hand on his leg. “I’m Dean, what’s your name?” 

“Castiel.” 

“No surname?” 

Castiel looked at Dean, blinking slowly, he had damned long lashes thought Dean. 

“You did not provide your surname so I presumed it would be more friendly to only state my first name.” 

Dean laughed softly. “Wow, okay, you’re a real social guy huh.” 

“I have been called as such, by others in my community.” 

Dean wasn’t sure if Castiel was joking, he looked serious. “Really?” 

Dean scratched his head, Castiel was real handsome but conversationally he was about Jack level of ineptitude. 

“I’m a Winchester, guess I’m used to everyone around here knowing that,” Dean said quickly. “Not that I’m famous or anything. Just us Winchesters have a reputation and um. You know, you’re kind of unnerving.” 

Castiel was staring at Dean now with violet blue eyes, his entire attention focused on him. “I don’t mean to be frightening.” 

“I’m not scared of ya, Cas,” Dean said instinctively. “Just curious.” 

“About?” 

“You.”

“Because I’m a v...” 

Dean began to wave his hands in a flustered manner, he was starting to blush. 

“...visitor,” finished Castiel. 

“Uh, yes, exactly.” 

“In fact, I am not, I have come to live here on a long term basis, I have work in Crossroads.” 

Crossroads was an industry hub about half an hour from Angel Falls. It was bigger and busier with more retail and commerce. Dean wasn’t surprised that Castiel’s job was based there. 

“Is it easy to find work as a ...” Dean grimaced. “... very experienced professional?” 

“I work in the Vampire club, Heavenly Creatures.” 

Dean lifted an eyebrow. “You’re a dancer?” 

That got a small laugh out of Castiel. “I am their accountant. I hope you’re not disappointed. Have you been?”

Dean shook his head. Someone from one of the booths was shouting for a bottle of coke, Dean ignored them. He was rapt in conversation with Castiel, tips be damned. 

“No, I haven’t, is it open to public?” Dean asked. “I’m not gonna have to do anything if I go there would I?” 

Castiel tilted up his chin and looked at Dean appraisingly. “If you came with me, you might be enlisted to help me stocktake.” 

“I’ll bring a calculator,” Dean said and because Castiel was looking at him with those come-hither blue eyes, he added. “And a rubber.” 

Dean made sure that he left to wait on the other tables after that. Castiel drank his True Blood slowly when Dean brought it back for him. He was kind of thirsty, staying there right till closing time, finishing up all six bottles of their stock. Dean made a mental note to order more in the morning, maybe try a range of flavours even. The practical side of him was sure that if Castiel was openly living in Angel Falls to work for vampire interests in Crossroads, more like him would come, or maybe they were already here just waiting to come out of the coffin so to speak. By the end of the evening, Dean decided that he liked Castiel. Liked the way he sat drinking in quiet contentment, offering Dean that little island of blissful silence whenever their eyes locked. Dean noticed when last call rolled around that Castiel was sitting in a far more relaxed manner. Leaning back into the backrest of his chair, his legs slightly spread and his cheeks flushed pink. Castiel left just before the doors were shut, giving Dean a happy wave as he walked outside with the exaggerated care of someone who was a little tipsy. 

As Dean packed up the sauces and set out the napkins for the morning rounds, he heard some worrying conversation. It was those troublesome college guys again. They were texting and checking their phones a lot, one let slip the thought “hold him down till I get there”. 

Dean put aside the vacuum cleaner and said his good night to Benny. Grabbing a length of chain that he used to padlock the diner sign to the single carpark flood light, Dean walked silently on the gravel. There was a lake not far behind the tree line to the east of the Roadhouse parking lot. Dean knew it was a popular spot for people who wanted some privacy. Dean stood out of the reach of the light until he could see a couple of shadows hurry towards the path to the lake. Dean followed carefully. 

He found Castiel sitting on the ground leaning on a tree. A couple of silver watches binding his wrists. The college guys encircled him and one stepped forward and said something to Castiel that made him grimace. 

Dean gave a shout and darted out with the chain in hand, whipping it around like a whirlwind. The guys yelped and scattered shouting “Crazy fucker!” 

Dean stepped forward and unbound Castiel who looked at him perplexed. 

“Dean?” 

“You okay Cas?” Dean panted. “Here, let me take those off for you.” 

“Sure,” Castiel said. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Are you here for the orgy too?” 

Dean’s head snapped up. “What?” 

“Those men, they propositioned me for a sexual encounter but I was a bit put off when one suggested I bite him during the scene.” 

“Scene?” Dean wriggled his eyebrows. “That was a sex scene?” 

“Well, we hadn’t progressed that far.” 

“You’re an accountant Cas, a vampire one, granted but still!” 

“Accountants can be very sexually adventurous,” Castiel said. “There is not need to be judgemental.” 

Dean pulled a face. “But out by the lake? With those idiots?” 

Castiel shrugged. “I was a little under the influence, I don’t usually drink that many True Bloods in one sitting.” 

Dean rubbed at Castiel’s wrists where the silver had seared into his flesh. The wounds were sealing before his eyes. 

“I found my appetite a little unmanageable this evening,” Castiel said shyly. “So I over-compensated with synthetics.” 

“Someone got you all riled up in the diner?” Dean asked carefully. 

“What do you think Dean?” 

Castiel in the darkness was an entirely new creature to Castiel in a packed full family restaurant. He tilted his head and studied Dean with an open expression, his eyes wide and his mouth parted. 

“I think you’re using some sort of vampire magic on me,” Dean smiled. 

“Would you mind if I did?”

“Have you been doing it all night?” 

“I would never enchant you against your will,” Castiel said. “I would prefer you surrendered yourself to me on your own terms.” 

“So you can do vampire magic,” Dean said triumphantly. 

Castiel licked his lips and Dean found himself copying the motion unconsciously. 

“Good night, Dean,” Castiel stood up, handing Dean the length of chain he had held. It had been squashed like clay. 

“Good night, Cas,” Dean responded. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Castiel said. 

“Castiel, like Madonna, or Beyonce, or Buffy. Oh, sorry,” Dean grinned. 

Castiel gave Dean a baleful look and then was gone. Disappeared into the shadow in a blur of beige. 

Dean walked back towards the carpark. A little excited, a bit apprehensive too. What was he thinking charging into the darkness to save a vampire’s ass. As nice as Castiel’s was. What had possessed him to think words like baleful and magic. The whole thing was out of character for Dean. To be so enamoured with a man he’s just met. To throw caution to the wind. To pass up on opportunities to get tips even. Still, he was grinning like a fool as he got back into his car. As he drove home. As he turned on the shower and turned it off again. As he climbed into bed. As he tossed and turned. As he woke up the next day, the alarm blaring for his day job. As Dean put on his Deputy’s uniform and as he stepped out into the morning sunlight. As the warm rays soaked into his skin. Dean could feel the change upon him. Like warm sunbeams and fairy dust.


End file.
